


this is it.

by outpastthemoat



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Fluff, M/M, sentimental drivel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-08
Updated: 2017-01-08
Packaged: 2018-09-15 19:25:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 607
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9252395
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/outpastthemoat/pseuds/outpastthemoat
Summary: What is this? Dean asks him.  I don’t know, Castiel says.    He keeps saying it, over and over; he says it when he loses his wings and halo, he says it over the coffee Dean buys him, his hands uncertainly holding on to his cup, his fingers skittering across the rim.





	

What is this? Dean asks him.

 

I don’t know, Castiel says.    He keeps saying it, over and over; he says it when he loses his wings and halo, he says it over the coffee Dean buys him, his hands uncertainly holding on to his cup, his fingers skittering across the rim.  

 

What is this? Dean asks him when Castiel takes him by the arm and draws him into his room.  

 

I don’t know, Castiel says, and kisses him, brings him to his knees and holds him in his arms while he presses kisses in the hollow of Dean’s throat, to his shoulder and chest and all the way down his side.

 

I don’t know, I don’t know, Castiel keeps saying.

 

What is this? Dean asks the second, third, fourth, fifteenth time he wakes up in Castiel’s arms, and Castiel just blinks at him, still with sleep in his eyes, still uncertain, saying I don’t know, Dean.  I don’t know.

 

What is this? Dean asks him when Castiel slides into his room him well after midnight.  Stop saying I don’t know, Cas.  

 

Dean knows what it is.  He’s known it all along.  He’s known it for years, he can feel it all the way to his fingertips, to the tips of his toes, when Castiel kisses him this way, long and slow, like nothing in the world matters but him, just Dean; oh, Dean knows what this is for him.  It’s everything.  It’s warmth and sweetness and waking up on his side of the bed.  

 

It’s having a side of the bed.  

 

He knows what he’d call it, if Castiel would only ask him.  He has been waiting so long for Castiel to figure it out.

 

I don’t know, Castiel says again, but Dean keeps asking.

 

Castiel licks his lips.  He tries to explain.  It’s you, he starts, and then stops.  It’s just you, and me.  Just like it’s always been.  There’s nothing else for me, Dean.  I don’t know what it’s called.

There’s a word for that, I think, Castiel says, but I don’t know what it is.  Maybe it’s something new.  It’s powerful.  There’s nothing like it in the entire universe, Dean, this is bigger, bigger than anything I have ever felt before, I used to know every word in every language, Dean, but I can’t remember them now.  Maybe it’s a word that has never existed before now.  What is this, Dean?

 

Dean knows, he knows.  He places his hands on the sides of Castiel’s face, draws their heads close together.  He says it in Castiel’s ear.  It’s love, Dean tells him.  He whispers it into Castiel’s mouth, says it against the hollow of Castiel’s throat, presses it a thousand times into Castiel’s skin.  Love, love, love, you dumb angel.  That is what this has always been.  That’s the word.  It is love.

 

But Castiel holds him back, looks at Dean with those sad, ancient eyes, It can’t be, that’s not right.  Not love.  That’s not for angels, Dean.  It’s not supposed to be for me. No one could love me.

 

I do, Dean swears.  I do.

 

It’s not supposed to be for me, Castiel says again.

 

It is, it is, Dean keeps saying, he keeps saying it until he thinks Castiel maybe is starting to believe him, This is the word you were looking for, Cas, this is it, it’s love, it’s love when I kiss you, when you stand between me and danger, when we chose each other again and again and again-

 

You don’t know, Castiel argues.

 

Oh yes I do, Dean says.  I know what this is.  And this is it.

  
  
  



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